


I’m Still A Rockstar

by TooManyGaysTooLittleTime



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Music, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, F/F, Past Jon Snow/Ygritte, Singer Ygritte (ASoIaF), they break up in chapter 1 soooo....
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:35:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24697693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TooManyGaysTooLittleTime/pseuds/TooManyGaysTooLittleTime
Summary: When Ygritte’s boyfriend Jon Snow ditches her and she loses her spot in his band, she decides to take revenge by recording a new album without him.Meera Reed has been a fan of Beyond the Wall’s music for years, and when she starts interning there, she meets Ygritte, unstable in her new status as a solo artist.on hiatus until someone leaves a kudo lmao... will be edited & rewritten w bonus content eventually!
Relationships: Meera Reed/Ygritte
Comments: 4
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> look! it’s another multi-chapter fic! (i really need to stop starting new ones...)
> 
> anyway, please accept this, meera/ygritte fandom, it is my humble offering.
> 
> title from So What by Pink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first chapter is a bit of set-up and we’ll get further into the story next chapter!

**dissonance:  
** 1a **:** lack of agreement the _dissonance_ between the truth and what people want to believe; _especially_ **:** inconsistency between the beliefs one holds or between one's actions and one's beliefs   


b  **:** an instance of such inconsistency or disagreement the mingling of bittercomedy and stark tragedy produces sharp _dissonances_ — F. B. Millett

2 **:** a mingling of sounds that strike the ear harshly **:** a mingling of discordant sounds; _especially_ , _music_ **:** a clashing or unresolved musical interval or chord

  
  
Ygritte takes a long swig from her water bottle and leans her hip against the table which has their instrument cases piled upon it. She watches the rest of Beyond the Wall fiddle about with tuning while their manager is gone.

The tension running through the room is obvious. Satin adjusts a peg on Jon’s guitar only to be snapped at and jump back: Sam’s brow is sticky with sweat as he works at the skin on the drum. One of Pyp’s headphones hangs off his ear, and if Grenn had been paying attention, he would have pushed it back over — but he seems too preoccupied by trying to get the keyboard to sit straight on the stand.

She sighs, wondering why they’d thought that recording the entirety of the new album in one sitting was a good idea. Not that they were bad songs, exactly — it just seemed they couldn’t get the mood exactly right, or that they couldn’t figure out the right change to make the songs go from merely good to perfect.

It was getting harder and harder to keep their initial burgeoning creativity up. Any semblance of what Ygritte thought might be something that hooked, pulled them in and gave the song substance, was quickly changed or shot down by Jon, the affection they’d shared the previous night notably absent.

She pulls on her headphones again and moves back to the microphone. “So, we doing that fourth one again?” she asks, trying to keep a cheery tone.

It doesn’t escape her notice that all of their shoulders sag at that. None of them speak for a moment, although their eyes flick around the room, challenging each other to talk first.

Jon stands up, pulling his guitar strap off. His face is in his usual surly expression, but Ygritte doesn’t smile at it as she usually would.

“We’re gonna just — go outside for a moment,” he says haltingly. “Yeah.”

Ygritte feels her hands curling into fists in her jacket pockets at his tone and the interruption of their recording, but she pulls off her headphones and leaves them on the table with the instrument cases, the cord lying on the floor, ready to trip someone up.

“So whaddya want to talk about?” she asks once they’re outside the studio, her tone outwardly cheery but brimming with anger underneath.

Jon sighs, running a hand through unwashed black curls. They’re messy from the activities of last night, but Ygritte no longer feels the pride she did initially when she’d seen that he didn’t brush it out.

“Look, Ygritte, I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

“What’s _this_?” she demands, arms crossed and raring for an argument.

“I can’t — I can’t have you as my girlfriend and my band at the same time. It’s just — tensions are too high, and I don’t need you insulting my ideas when everyone else is at the same time.”

“So what? They’re terrible ideas. You know nothing about making good music, Jon Snow,” she spits.

Jon looks outraged — an expression different to sullen silence for once in his life. “You’re jealous,” he sputters. “You’re jealous because I’m better at this band shtick than you are,”

Ygritte pulls her hand out of her jacket pocket and, quite unexpectedly, slaps him across the face. They’re both breathing heavily as she says, “I am _done_ , Jon Snow. Good luck trying to get the new album out, but don’t think I’ll be helping you.”

His eyes are wide and he rubs the side of his cheek in a state of shock. “Okay,” he says, finally. “Okay,” he repeats.

“Good, you understand _something_ for once in your life,” she says as she turns her back and leaves.

She doesn’t look over her shoulder as she storms out of the studios, face as red as her hair. It is only when she’s nearly back to her apartment (shared with Jon, _of course_ ) that she realises exactly how much of a bad decision that she has made.

Without Beyond the Wall, she has no friends, no job, only a couple of songs made when she was starting out to her name. She has money, of course — you’re not in a band as popular as Beyond the Wall without a good share of the profits, particularly not if you’re the main singer — but she doesn’t know where she can rent a new apartment, or if there’s a place for her to crash.

Ygritte groans as she remembers Tormund’s place, near the dump. While there was a good reason that she left it (actually, quite a few good reasons that she left it), she doesn’t have any other place to crash for the time being, at least until she figures out how to deal with her new situation.

Resigned to her fate, she trudges on towards the home she’d left at sixteen and never gone back to since.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos or comments are much appreciated! thank you for reading


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meera Reed knows she’s a fangirl, and is proud of it—but when she gets the opportunity to meet Beyond the Wall, she finds a band in disrepair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look at me im updating every fic i have (and i mean *every*). this one is due for a third chapter sometime this week.

**staccato:**  
1 a **:** cut short or apart in performing **:** disconnected staccato notes

b **:** marked by short clear-cut playing or singing of tones or chords a staccato style

2 **:** abrupt, disjointed

Meera dangles the laminated ID card in front of the security’s eye. She’s small enough that she has to stand on tiptoe to see into his eyes.

He snatches it from her hand and examines it before thrusting it back to her with a grunt of assent. She drops the lanyard back over her neck and goes around him to open the door into backstage.

Meera blinks a couple of times to adjust her eyes to the sudden shock of bright light, before she notices that Beyond the Wall are standing in her line of vision. The band that she’s coveted for years, the band whose posters she’s put up on her wall, the band whose every new song she’s first in line for, hanging off all the teasers and announcements — they are right in front of her, in the flesh, and Meera doesn’t quite know what to do with herself.

They probably have a million fans who want autographs, or selfies, and Meera doesn’t want to be like that. She wants them to remember her, wants to stick in their minds as much as they have stuck in hers — but she doesn’t know what she can do to achieve that.

Their drummer — Samwell Tarly — is the first to notice her, and he waves eagerly while in discussion with the band’s frontman and guitarist. Meera waves back, as eagerly as he had, although her gaze is focused elsewhere by now.

Jon Snow, who is sitting next to Tarly, has been Meera’s inspiration for taking up the guitar, her inspiration for songwriting, her inspiration for singing. He’s handsome, rugged, rubbing the scruff on his chin as he talks with Tarly. His profile is dark and stormy, his eyes moody.

Meera has had a crush on him before, as has her brother, although hers had been more fleeting than Jojen’s. Still, seeing him in real life makes her blush like she’s a schoolgirl with a crush again, who bought all his posters in order to kiss them by night. When his eyes lift from Tarly, and move to her, Meera’s heart skips a beat.

“What are you doing here?” he shouts, already standing up and moving. He walks like a fighter, Meera notices even though she is quailing under the force of his gaze, his shoulders square and his posture hulking. “I thought I told you never to return!”

She notices that his gaze isn’t fixed on her, but rather on a space somewhere behind her, and Meera turns around, ready to fight anyone who interrupts what’s meant to be her time to impress Beyond the Wall’s members. A gasp, however, slips out of her when she realises who it is.

Ygritte (first name only, always) is leaning back against the closed door, a smirk playing over her features and her body loose and relaxed. “You know nothing, Jon Snow,” she says, and it carries a faint air of menace. “‘M Ygritte. I’ll always come back.”

Meera is utterly intimidated by the both of them: Jon Snow’s moody demeanor and the dry, easy confidence that Ygritte exudes both attract and repel her, catching her in their orbit like a planet gaining a satellite. She is out of her depth, the initial bravery she’d called upon to come here failing her when faced with the two leaders of the band.

“I don’t want you back. Go run to the trash heap you came from,” Snow’s face is red with embarrassment, and the glances that he shoots at Meera inform her that she is the cause for that.

“Already did.” Ygritte says, pushing off the door and stalking towards him. “Tormund says he misses you.”

A flash of something that Meera cannot quite read passes over his face, but Jon’s expression reverts to a surly frown a moment later. “I don’t care.”

“You bloody do care, Jon Snow, you lying crow, otherwise you wouldn’t have spent so long with me in the first place!” A raw edge of hurt tinges Ygritte’s words as she spits them, her fingers curling up into a fist. “And it ain’t right, that you should be carrying on without me. I made you. _Beyond the Wall_ don’t mean anything without me.”

Meera has to admit that Ygritte is correct. Their iconic image—a red head of hair in the middle of a blanket of blackness—that had been on their first album and replicated too many times to count wouldn’t exist were it not for Ygritte’s inclusion. Nor would half of Beyond the Wall’s most beautiful, haunting songs, the ones that Meera always secretly preferred. But she can tell that Jon Snow wishes it weren’t that way.

“Look, Ygritte, I’m sorry. But I’m still not going to have you back in Beyond the Wall.”

These seem entirely the wrong words to say, as a moment later Meera has to duck when Ygritte swings straight for his nose. She’s a good fighter: her fist connects perfectly, and Jon Snow’s philtrum and mouth are covered with drips of blood. Meera screams as Jon punches back, aiming for her chin.

Security pushes into the room, and a guard each goes to hold down Jon and Ygritte. Meera is so shocked by the encounter that she doesn’t realise that she is out until a security guard is holding out some money and saying “Refund,” to her.

“Um, thank you,” she says, taking the money and stuffing it into her pockets. She looks at the woman. “Will they... I mean, Jon and Ygritte...”

The guard sighs. “He’d be well in his rights to get a restraining order. Crazy woman wouldn’t let herself go from the band.”

While outwardly Meera nods agreement, internally she thinks of how strange Beyond the Wall without Ygritte seems. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more information on why ygritte is, well, The Way She Is At The Moment, next chapter

**Author's Note:**

> i don’t even know if anyone actually ships them anymore but hopefully i have fed whoever does content!


End file.
